


The Word

by supersoakerx



Category: Paterson (2016)
Genre: All messy, Anal Play, Blow Jobs, Cum Eating, Daddy Dom!Paterson, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Floor Licking, Masturbation, Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, dd/lg, maple syrup, spit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22907149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersoakerx/pseuds/supersoakerx
Summary: Paterson hears you calling him 'Daddy' when you think he can't hear you.
Relationships: Paterson (Paterson)/Reader, Paterson (Paterson)/You, Paterson x You, paterson x reader
Comments: 20
Kudos: 99





	1. Part 1

**Monday Night**

He can’t believe his ears.

What was it you just said?

“Marvin, what did I say? Get out of Daddy’s chair, buddy, come on.” Your voice rings out from the kitchen, clear and pretty as day.

He had just come up from his study and stopped dead in his tracks. Daddy? Jesus. The word shot straight through the pit of his stomach, to his dick, where his blood rushed to so fast he had to grab the wall for support.

 _Well_ , he thinks to himself, dipping his head down to look at his groin, _this is new_.

He breathed deep and hard and thought about anything-everything-that would stop this from going any further.

“Pat!” He hears you call out, loud. Thank God, you didn’t know he was here, standing at the top of the stairs, ashamed and aching. “Pizza’s ready!”

Steeling himself, he made like he was opening and closing the door to the basement, as if he’d just come up from there, and wasn’t replaying your words over and over in his head.

“Coming, (Y/N),” he takes the few steps into the kitchen, pulls some glasses from the cabinet and fills them with drink. “Smells great, honey. Is that basil?”

You turn to look at him, and notice something’s different. He seems… nervous? Just the tinge of pink colouring his skin. Shy, about something? You notice his hands: a tiny little tremor runs through them.

“Mmhm, fresh, from our herb garden,” you place your homemade pizza on the dining table, and grab his arm as he steps past you to take his seat. “You alright, Pat?”

“Yeah-yes, honey. Mmhm.” He nods, and cracks a small smile. “Just, got something I’m working on.” He kisses you on your forehead. It wasn’t a lie, not exactly. He was working very hard to control his raging erection. “Let’s eat, hm?”

You’re not convinced. You don’t push it.

**Tuesday Evening**

“Marvin!” you call. You’re standing in the living room, shrugging on your jacket, while Paterson wipes and dries and puts away the dishes. During dinner, which he happily ate all of, and had seconds, he’d said he wanted to work on a new piece tonight, and you wanted to give him the quiet space to do it.

“Come here, big fella,” Marvin comes bounding over to you and you leash him up, preparing to head outside, “good dog. Let’s go for a walk, hey buddy?” you’re scratching Marvin’s chin. “Let’s go for a walk so Daddy can work on his poems, hm? Come on.”

You hear a sudden crash from the kitchen, like when you drop a plate and it clatters into the sink.

You call out, “You ok, honey?”

“Y-yeah! Yeah, (Y/N), all ok in here, honey. You head out.” Paterson’s voice answers you. Something in his voice gives you pause, and you crinkle your brow.

You pause. “Ok, Pat… we’ll be back soon, then... ” You listen out for anything weird, but it just sounds like Paterson is pottering around in the kitchen again, all normal. Then-

“See you soon, honey. Keep warm,” he calls back.

You shrug at Marvin, and head out the door, thinking no more of it, there was nothing more to it. Right?

**Thursday Morning**

He’s woken by the sounds of you getting ready. The sounds you make when you’re trying to be quiet, and not wake him up.

You’re trying to open and close your clothes drawers slowly, slide your wardrobe door open quiety, latch and unlatch the bathroom door quietly, and pack your handbag with as little noise as possible.

Marvin kept getting underneath your feet.

“Marvin!” you whisper, gritting it out through clenched teeth. “Stop it, Marvin. Do you wanna wake up Daddy?”

Paterson’s eyes flick open at that. Did he just hear you say-

“Marvin, please. Daddy needs his sleep, don’t wake him up! You’re being a pain, buddy!” You were whispering in the quietest, gentlest, most forceful whisper you could manage.

Paterson shifts and rolls over, away from you, pretending to still be asleep. Really, he just didn’t want you to see his dick getting hard in his boxers from hearing you whisper the word ‘Daddy’ over and over.

You flick your gaze over his turning body. God, he was so hot, muscles rippling as he got comfy again. He didn’t even have to _do_ anything, this husband of yours, he just _was_. Wait-was that his-did you just see him-aroused?

Maybe it was a trick of the light. Maybe it was just morning wood, which you, unfortunately, couldn’t help him with, already running late thanks to Marvin.

You probably just imagined it, anyway. Morning sex when you’re on the early shift, what wishful thinking!

You walk over to Paterson’s sleeping form and give him some slow, gentle pecks on the side of his head, breathing in the smell of his hair. “Bye, handsome,” you whisper, and he groans in his sleep in acknowledgement. You smile at him, and head into the loungeroom.

Marvin barked when he saw you put on your coat and grab your bag. You gasped at him, “Marvin! Shh!! Daddy’s sleeping, now, hush! Go and lay on your mat.”

You grab your things and head out the front door.

As the front door closes in the latch and you take a step down the stairs leading to the car, you think you hear a noise.

Just a faint little sound. Did that come from-your bedroom?

You think, and you’re pretty certain about this, but you think you just heard Paterson moan.

**Friday Night**

He’s in the bathroom when he hears you enter the front door, home from work. His stomach does a little flip, just to know you’re home to him. He rinses the soap off his hands and goes to grab the hand towel to dry them off.

You hear a scuffle and a small bark. Marvin must be pleased you’re home too.

“Hey, Marvin,” he hears you coo. Then softer, like you’re right up in the little dog’s face, “How are ya big fella, hm? … Hey, where’s Daddy, Marvin? Hm? Is Daddy home? … Oooh you’re such a good boy,” you must be giving Marvin some scratches. You always made that “oooh” sound when you were giving Marvin some scratches.

Wait a minute.

He craned his head towards the direction of your soft voice, trying to hear you through the bathroom door.

“Hm? Where’s Daddy at Marvin?” you were only just audible now. ”Has Daddy come and given you some scratches, buddy? … Aww, good boy, Marvin!” Marvin barked, happy.

You’d said it again. You’d said it a lot.

Childishly, Paterson wished he was the one getting scratches from you.

Less childishly, he wishes that you roughed up his hair and ran your nails down his back and moaned and sighed while you writhed underneath him and and arched up into him and called him-

Shit. Not again! He was hard instantly, all over this dumb thing you said when you were cooing at the damn dog.

 _Get it together, Paterson_ , he thinks, _this isn’t a thing_.

A **knock knock knock** sounds at the door. _Shit._

“Pat? You in there, honey?”

 _Oh, fuck, no!_ There was no way he could show his face to you now, his dick was throbbing hard in his jeans and he couldn’t believe why and he’s ashamed and he’s sick of cumming in his hand over this and he just-he just-

“O-oh, hi, honey,” he stutters, stupid. “I didn’t hear you come in.” _Shut UP._

“Come out soon, ok, baby? I wanna hear about your day.”

“Sh-sure,” he grips his cock experimentally through his jeans his knees buckle, he has to grip the sink for support, has to bite his bottom lip to keep his moan in his mouth.

He hears your footsteps pad away from the door… and he’s never gotten his jeans off faster in his life.

He keeps himself so quiet while he pulls on his dick, fast and rough, and he releases a long exhale through his nose when he brings himself to orgasm, rocking his hips into his fist and spilling his thick, hot load into his hands. Like a damn teenager. Jesus.

**Saturday Afternoon**

Paterson takes himself for a walk. He needs to cool off, clear his head.

He thinks to himself, am I normal? Is this ok? God, what’s wrong with me? I’m not her fucking father. She’s my wife! Christ. Am I sick?

And he goes around and around in circles in his head until he realises: fuck it. Who cares? The way you say it gets him all hot and tingly and makes him feel powerful, strong, your provider and your lover and someone who will do everything to care for you and protect you and make sure you feel happy and loved.

But.

Paterson isn’t sure how to go about this. He doesn’t quite know how to raise this with you. He knows you wouldn’t laugh at him, mock him, or make him feel weak or stupid. But still, he has to admit, he’s a little vulnerable here.

What’s even worse, he’s horny. He’s frustrated, he wants you, you’ve teased him and he aches for you and you didn’t even know you were doing any of it! … Did you?

Paterson grunts out an irritated sound as he walks. He stops on the footpath. He turns around, shoves his hands into his pockets and starts back home, determined.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse.

**Saturday Evening**

You’re in the kitchen, reading the 4th step of the peach tart recipe you found online. There’s three different mixing bowls, bottles of syrup and honey, whole peaches and cut up peaches and sugar and flour and the counter is a mess. And so are you. There’s peach juice and syrup on your fingers and arms, flour sticking to you in some parts, your hair is all up in a messy bun and falling around your face; your apron is dirty and your cheeks are rosy pink. It’s hot, with the oven on, and you bring a hand up to wipe your face, accidentally smearing some sticky sweetness along your jaw to the corner of your mouth.

You’re digging through the cupboards looking for the tart tin. You’re making such a ruckus, opening and closing the cabinets, shifting around plates and trays and plastic containers, that you don’t even hear Paterson come in the front door.

Marvin sits on the floor by you, right in front of the cabinet where you _know_ the tart tin is. He’s dozing in and out of sleep. “Oh, Marvin,” you tsk, “You’re in the way, buddy, could you move? Please?”

Marvin just growls. Quietly, with soft and stealthy footsteps, Paterson leans up against the archway into the kitchen. He’s watching you, intently, entranced by the mere sight of you all messy and huffy.

“Fine,” you say to Marvin, unaware of Pat’s presence in the archway behind you, “but if we don’t get this dessert in the oven soon, Daddy won’t get his special treat tonight, and then who’ll be in trouble, hm?”

Oh, shit, Paterson thinks. Did he hear you right? Daddy, special treat, trouble? Oh, he’s so fucked. He crosses his arms across his chest as his dick starts to swell up, a bulge forming down the inside of his thigh. He shifts, letting it.

Marvin looks at you, and turns away, disinterested, seemingly just going back to sleep. You gently shift him out of the way, muttering, “come on, Marvin, you’re little but you’re-heavy when you wanna be-aren’t you?” You’re on the ground, holding yourself up on one hand, opening the cabinet and rifling through it with the other.

Paterson is graced with a view of you on the floor, just about on all fours, ass in the air, wiggling as you sift through the tins and pans and trays. He knits his brows together and bites into his bottom lip, hard, to keep from moaning at the sight of you. It’s almost like you’re presenting yourself to him, he thinks, and he thinks he’s gonna pass out when he hears you cry “oh!! Yes!”

You finally got your hands on the tart tin, and you place it on the counter, sighing happily to Marvin, “yes, found it, buddy! Daddy’s gonna be sooo happy, isn’t he?” You hum and move to stand up, but not before-

“ _Is he?”_ Paterson couldn’t help himself.

Your snap your head around, eyes wide in shock at the sudden sound of his voice, coming unbidden from behind you.

“Oh, baby, hi,” you gasp, your heart rate still pounding from being startled. You grip the counter and make to stand up, “I didn’t hear you co-“

“No, no,” he murmurs at you with dark eyes, and you stop moving, you pinch your brows together for a second, flex your fingers on the benchtop. You swallow thickly, getting just a little nervous. Just a little… something… else? “Turn and face me properly,” he says, voice low, “but stay down.”

“S-stay down?” you query him, your voice ticking up at the end. He was looking at you like-like he wanted to eat you, and it made your cheeks hot and your palms damp.

His jaw was set and his full lips were pouted just so, he looked almost, angry?

You felt a little shiver run up your spine. Your eyes were pinned to his face but you thought you could see, just out of the corner of your eye, you thought you could see the outline of him through his jeans.

“Stay on your knees for me. Don’t move.”

Your heart was thudding in your chest, you were almost sure he could see it. Obliging him, you shifted to face him, on your knees, and rested back on your calves. You weren’t sure what to do with your hands, so you just laid them palms down on your thighs. You thought you saw the corner of his mouth flick up.

“You look pretty, honey,” his voice is thick and velvety, “were you cooking for me?”

You gulp and nod, you tried to say, ‘yes, baby, I was, a new recipe, with peaches’, but all that came out was a high little “mhm!”

“Mmm, smells good. Smells like,” he takes a deep breath in, “peaches?”

Your face breaks into a big smile. Oh, you felt at ease again, and you start to tell him about the recipe you found online, with raspberries, and maple syrup, and, “yes, I-“

“But it’s fucking filthy in here.” The words were guttural from him. He watched your little face drop, your eyes barely able to contain your alarm. Paterson felt a hot, dark wave of arousal flood him. He would never interrupt you, not like that, but with your face and his cock and what you’d been saying he just _had_ to have you like this.

You drop your eyes to the floor, noticing how some ingredients had spilled onto the tiles. Paterson wasn’t usually this… intimidating? It was doing things to you, deep in your belly.

“And look at you,” he starts again, and you flick your gaze back up to meet his eyes, black with want. “You’ve made a mess of yourself, honey. Get that dirty apron off.”

He couldn’t believe you were going along with this. You made him so painfully hard.

You bit your lip, and pulled at the hem of your apron, “this?” you squeak, voice all small and meek. You see what this is now, you see what this is and good God do you want it.

Your big eyes had him weak. It was now or never, he thought, so he said, “Yeah, that. Get that filthy thing off you, you dirty girl.”

Oh, he felt that one right in his cock.

You try to contain your smirk. You reach your hands around your back and untie the straps. You lift the apron off your head and bundle it, placing it on the ground beside you. You look back up and shake your hair out of your face to find him shamelessly palming his hard length through his jeans. You did _try_ not to smirk, right?

“Oh, that’s funny is it?” he asks, tinging his voice with a hint of annoyance.

You pull your lips between your teeth to stop from smiling, but you can’t help the tiny raise of your eyebrows and tiny tilt of your head and tiny shrug of your shoulders, as if to say, “kinda?”

He growls and lurches a step closer to you. You weren’t expecting the sudden movement and you rock backwards, your back hitting the cupboard with a dull thud. He gives you a cold, dark, closed mouth smile. “That wasn’t very smart of you, was it?”

He’s halfway into the kitchen now and you can feel your heartbeat in your hands, your throat, your-

“Take off your shirt.” He’s gruff again and a small noise escapes you accidentally when you let go of the breath you were holding.

“What?” he barks.

“Nothing! Nnnothing,” you look up at him, and he’s set his face into a stony cold stare and your spine tingles at it.

“Take it off, little peach, and don’t make me ask again.”

You whip your shirt up over your head and your breasts bounce inside your bra with the movement. Paterson cops an eyeful of your luscious chest and bites back a groan. He takes a hand to his clothed cock again. “And that,” he flicks his chin towards you, his eyes glancing down to your bra and then back to study your face. He doesn’t stop touching himself.

You reach behind you to unclasp the hooks of your bra and remove it from your body. You toss it to the side with your apron and your discarded shirt. Paterson’s eyes glimmer dangerously.

“Squeeze them, honey. Pretend it’s me.” He felt giddy, weightless. He closed the distance between you.

You brought both hands up and cupped your breasts, you gave a gentle squeeze and sighed for him. You massaged the warm, soft swell of your breasts, splayed your fingers out over your nipples, squeezed the little buds between your index and middle fingers and whined for him.

“Hhmmmmh,” he groaned, “show me your tongue, beautiful.” He was feeling hot, his jeans and trunks uncomfortably tight.

You played with your breasts some more and ran the tip of your tongue over your bottom lip, then you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, flattening it down against your chin the way he liked.

Paterson shuddered when you tilted your head so he could see down your throat.

In a flash he brought both hands up and made quick work of his belt and jeans, “fucking tease,” he muttered while he kept his eyes locked on your mouth, your breasts. You couldn’t help the smile that crept into your eyes as you stared up at him, your hands full of your tits and teasing your nipples with your mouth open wide. He could spit on your tongue and you’d swallow it and thank him. God, you really were dirty. What was he _doing_ to you?

He shoved his trunks and jeans down to his mid-thigh, and sighed when his thick cock was freed. It jutted out from his body, stiff and proud and right in your face. You tried to focus on the angry red head but your eyes almost went cross-eyed.

He watched you try to keep your eyes on him and huffed a laugh. He gripped his cock and stroked it, lazily up and down, right over your face. His knuckles, wrapped as they were around his pulsing length, grazed your tongue and top lip.

“What did you call me?” He takes you by surprise with that, and it must have shown on your face.

“Before, when you were,” he grunts, remembering you on the floor, with your ass in the air, calling him ‘Daddy’, and all the other times before. He continues, “when you were t-talking to the dog. What did you call me?”

Oh, fuck. He heard that? Instinctively you try to close your mouth and swallow before you answer him but he stops you with a huffed-

“Don’t you fucking dare. Keep still.” he breathes, “Answer me.”

You’re pretty sure you’ve leaked onto your panties and you shift on your knees. They were starting to hurt.

Apparently, you hesitated for too long because he gripped his cock at the base and tapped the stiff, sikly head against your tongue repeatedly, causing little wet slick-slick-slick sounds.

“Cooome on,” he coos at you, sing-songing his voice and raising his eyebrows up all patronising as he slaps your tongue with his dick, “I know you know what you did. You’ve been doing it all week, dirty girl.” He lets go of his cock and lets it fall on your tongue. He lets it just sit there, throbbing and hot. “And I’ve had enough.,” he rocks his hips just once and his head butts up against your top lip for a moment. He stills his hips and lets his cock rest on your tongue again. “Are you gonna answer me, (Y/N)? What have you been calling me, baby? When you thought I wasn’t listening?”

You mumble out a pathetic, “Hahhee?”

He snorts a laugh and a deep and throaty “ha!” leaves his lips as his Adam’s apple bobbed once. “What was that?” he presses you, turning his head and slightly leaning in as if to put an ear to you, to hear you better.

Something has come over him. You’re craning your neck, head titled all the way up at him, mouth open wide and his cock resting on top and you can’t form words and the power he feels is fucking intoxicating.

“Daddy,” you push out, heat from embarrassment and arousal flooding you. Fuck it felt so good to finally say that to his face.

“MMMM,” he groans through pursed lips as his hips involuntarily run his dick over your lips again, “yes, baby, ‘Daddy’, you’ve been calling me ‘Daddy’, haven’t you?”

“Aahhuh,” it’s really all you can do at this point.

“And look at what you do to me,” he bucks his hips, sending his cock sliding over your open mouth again, “with that dirty little mouth.” He grips his cock at the base and runs it left to right across your tongue, your wide open mouth. “Look at what you do to Daddy, baby, see?”

He lets go of his grip and his dick falls to your tongue with a little wet splat.

He raises his eyebrows at you, and opens his mouth into an ‘o’, condescendingly enticing you to answer.

You nod your head in reply, as best as you can from the angle, as if to say, ‘yes, I see, Daddy’ and the way your lips and tongue rub a little, just a little bit up and down against his dick, makes him groan.

Paterson feels on fire. His bones feel like liquid. He’s so turned on that he’s afraid he’ll blow his load right in your face if the word leaves your mouth again. He feels drunk on you, on this.

And you, you’re no better. You’re pretty sure you’re dripping. You can feel your panties are soaked and clinging to your folds.

He grips his cock again and takes it away from your mouth, angling it up away from you. He tugs on himself, a few slow pumps. He’s jerking his cock right in your face and you’re _powerless_.

You relax your jaw, finally, and lick over your stretched out lips. You swallow, getting rid of some of the excess spit that collected in your mouth. You just now remembered that you were still holding your breasts in your hands.

Unthinking, you say the first thing that comes to your mind. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

He’s fully going to lose his mind.

“I know you are, baby, I know you didn’t mean it, did you?” You shake your head. He’s still stroking his cock. “Are you gonna make it better for me?” You nod. “Mmm,” his cock pulses in his hand, “tell me, honey.”

“I’m gonna make you feel better, Daddy.” Without hesitation.

“Yes you are,” he hisses, “I knew you’d be a good girl for me. My good little girl with her filthy whore mouth,” he bucks into his hand. _Christ, Paterson_ , he thinks to himself, _calm the fuck down. Stay in control, here_. He couldn’t give in to you, not yet.

“You,” he shudders through a breath, “You think you get to suck my cock when you leave our house in such a state?”

You’re transfixed by the sight of his hand roaming up and down his cock, his flushed face and his panting mouth, and you drag your tongue over your bottom lip, before biting it between your teeth. You pout.

He groans. “Don’t give me that face. Fucking mess everywhere,” he looks to the little puddle of golden liquid on the floor near his foot, and his breath hitches when he gets an idea. An evil fucking idea.

“Clean it up.” His eyes sparkle.

Your eyes, are open wide, you’re staring at him, mouth agape, not believing what just came out of his mouth.

“You heard me-hhh.” He huffs a breath out after the last word.

“But-“ you didn’t even know what that was, that little circle on the cold tiles. _I mean_ , you think to yourself _, it’s probably maple syrup_. _But still!_

“Don’t you want my cock, (Y/N)?” his tone is chastising.

A tiny little puff of air leaves your lips, and you flush, realising what you’re about to agree to, when you gasp out a “yes.”

“Pfft ‘yes’ fucking _what?_ ” He makes himself sound irritated. He’s enjoying this way too much.

You’re breathing shallowly now. “Yes, Daddy, I want,” you swallow, “your cock.”

“Well, then“ he was panting, too, now, “you’d better clean up Daddy’s floor.”

You lick your lips in nervousness. He takes a step back to look down at you better, and stills his hand on his cock.

You lean forward onto your hands, and look up at him. You’re on your hands and knees, shirtless, covered in peach tart mix and his face-his face is dark, devilish. He’s holding back a smile.

You shuffle back on your knees, your butt hitting against one of the cabinet doors. You make to lean down onto the floor but he-

“Wait. Shift your jeans down. Pull your panties up.”

It takes you a second to figure out what he wants you to do. But then. You pull your jeans down over the swell of your cheeks, showing him some of the curve of your ass. Then, you pull your underwear up, up so it sits over your hips and gathers in between your cheeks. You look up at him again, and quirk your brow. It’s like you’re saying, “happy?”

For Paterson, it looks like you’re wearing a thong, and he’s fucking thrilled.

“Beautiful, baby,” his cock swells even more—if that were possible—from the sight of your pretty ass all dressed up like this. “You really are a little peach, aren’t you?”

Then, he crouches down next to you. He takes one of his hands and glides his big warm palm and thick soft fingers over all the bare flesh of your ass he can see. He trails his hand up your naked back, along your spine. You turn your head to try to see him over your shoulder. He glides his hand back down your back, and settles his palm over one of your cheeks.

He pinches you, sudden and hard, and you clench your cheeks involuntarily and buck your hips back into him. You glare at him over your shoulder, and he chuckles.

He stands back up and takes a step back, about 2 feet away from you now. “Aw, don’t look at me like that, honey… I’m the one you’re keeping waiting. It’s like you don’t even want your Daddy’s big cock anymore.”

You sigh through your nose, swallow, and steady yourself on your palms, readying to lean your face down and lick up some unknown amber liquid from the kitchen floor so you can suck your husband’s dick. Filthy.

“Go on, baby. Be a good girl for me and clean it up.”

Seeing you like this, Paterson wishes he could marry you all over again. Your beautiful tits are out, hanging freely, you’re on all fours, your panties pulled up into a thong and your jeans half-way down your ass cheeks. When you lower yourself down to the tiles, it exaggerates your ass even more, and he stifles a desperate groan. He sees your tongue dart out to wet your lips, and then you open your mouth. You lean in deeper, closer to the floor, and Paterson crouches down again, hypnotised by you. Your body, your beauty, your willingness, and in this particular moment, the fuck-off level of sheer sex you were exuding.

You close your eyes, hold your tongue out, and lick a long swipe up the puddle on the ground. “Mm!” you blurt out, totally on accident. Fuck, did he hear that? You hoped he didn’t. You were just pleased and surprised to be right: it _was_ maple syrup after all. You swallowed the little that collected on your tongue.

“Fuck,” he breaths out, long and low, really drawing it out in that way he does. He couldn’t fucking believe he’d found a girl like you. “Did you even know what that was, baby?”

You shake your head. He doesn’t need to know that you made an educated guess. He was far too into this, you could tell. And oh, you were gonna get him good with this one. “No, Daddy, I just licked it up cause you told me to.”

His eyes light up like it’s Christmas, New Year’s and his birthday all at once.

“What a dirty girl, licking fuck knows what up from the ground just to suck me off.” He can barely contain himself, he feels like his nerves are on fire. “And the rest, dirty baby, come on.” He wants to see you do it again.

His words are thrilling you, hitting you right in your core, and you’re eager now, licking and lapping at the floor and making little “mm” and “ah” sounds as you try to slurp every drop with your tongue.

“God, did your mother raise you to be this filthy?”

You pause, looking over at him. Your tongue was just resting on the floor, ready to make another pass at the pretty much clean tile – at least, clean in this little spot. Instead, you smile with your eyes, and slowly, cruelly, run the tip of your tongue over your top lip. Paterson lets out a big sigh. Good. Then, keeping your eyes locked with his, you lick a long, wet drag along the tile again.

“Oh, get the fuck up, you dirty-“

“Daddy?” You cut him off. Where this boldness comes from, you’ve not a clue.

Paterson takes a couple quick breaths, his eyes flicking between your two. “Yes, baby?” His heart’s beating fast, he’s not sure, has he done something, did you not like-

“Will you let me suck your cock now?”

“Oh, honey,” he breathes, standing, relieved, and hard as stone, so hard it hurts. “You’re too fucking perfect. Get up on your knees and, feet against the-“

You already manoeuvre yourself into position. Kneeling back against the cabinet with your hands resting on your thighs, like you were when he first told you, and your face, it kills him. You look proud, smug and happy that you positioned yourself how he wanted you before he even really had to ask.

“Mmm, my baby’s so good to me, isn’t she?” he asks, palming his cock again and stepping over in front of you. He’s looking down at you with, wonder, awe, adoration?

You nod for him, and breath out a dreamy “yes, Daddy.”

He smiles, brief and beautiful, letting a huff of air out of his nose. He leans one hand on the counter, next to your head, gripping the benchtop. Your peripheral vision on your left side is blocked by his forearm.

With his other hand, he holds his cock at the base, holds it out for you, almost right against your lips, you can feel the heat radiating off it.

A simple command, and you’re on him. “Suck.”


	3. Part 3

A simple command, and you’re on him. “Suck.”

You wrap your lips around the stiff, hard but silky soft head of his cock and immediately you’re bobbing your mouth on him. just like he wanted. Your tongue laves at the underside, gently massaging him with each drag of your lips over his engorged flesh.

Paterson throws his head back, “aahhhggh, fuck, honey,” and then brings his face back down to look at you, “your mouth, baby, so good for me, so good for Daddy.”

You bat your lashes at him while you move your mouth along his cock, and his face contorts in pleasure, like he can’t even believe you. You’re taking in a little more of him, now. You’re rocking your lips back and forth and really slicking up his cock good and well with your spit.

“Yeah, baby, get my dick all wet,” he sees his cock emerging from your mouth all shiny and his cock twitches between your lips, “show me how you suck Daddy’s cock.”

Feeling his cock jump on your tongue spurs you on, and you gulp down more of him, letting out a little moan. He’s repeatedly hitting up against you’re soft palate but his length is maybe only halfway inside your mouth. And he’s thick, too, and holding your lips tight around his girth is starting to make your jaw hurt.

You fucking love it.

“Shit, honey, that’s your little throat isn’t it?” He’s just about breathless.

“Mmmhmm,” you hum around him.

“Yeah, it is. Take more of me, honey, come on I know you can do it, you can take me deeper, open up your little throat for me… dirty little mouth so fffucking perfect.” He can’t help the grunts that escape him.

He’s starting to rock his hips into you, just gently rocking his cock along your tongue. You suck in your cheeks around him.

“Ffffuck,” he growls, “open up, honey, come on let me in, I know you can, come on, I know you can do it.” It’s like a prayer, huffed out each time you drag your lips over his cock. “You know what I want, ohh-open.”

You try to take a breath, try to time it so you can open your throat up as your lips drag him in, but you miss it, and you gag. But _fuck_ , you gag so pretty, he thinks. The sound hits him deep in his gut.

“Ohhh-hohhh, dirty little thing wants to,” he huffs a breath, “choke on it, huh, h-honey?” He curls his back so he can give tiny thrusts into your mouth, his ass cheeks clenching together with every push, and he brings his free hand to rest on the side of your neck, his thumb resting along the column of your throat. “Dirty baby wants to choke on Daddy’s cock?”

You want to do so well for him. And you know how the sounds of you struggling to fit his cock in your mouth drives him crazy.

So, you stick your tongue out a little bit, and drive him over and over into the back of your mouth. The sick wet sounds of your gagging echo in your cozy kitchen.

Paterson was moaning, panting, but when he hears what you’re doing, the sounds you’re making, he silences himself so he can hear you make yourself gag on him.

Your mouth is making so much spit with nowhere to go, it just leaks out of the corners of your mouth, down your chin.

“Sshhhit, honey,” he hisses, “just what I like, just what I fucking like,” his voice is low, purring. “Good girl.”

You moan around him then, moan your happiness at his words, and bob your lips along his length so fast you think you’ll make yourself dizzy, and some more of your spit dribbles out and lands on your chest, your breasts.

“Aahhgh, fffuck,” he groans, “slow down, honey, don’t hurt yourself, fuck.”

You pull off his mouth and a thick glob of your spit drops to the tiles. He’s fucking obsessed with that. He wants to see it again, but the wild pictures in his mind are interrupted when he hears you say, sweet as liquid sugar-

“But what if I want you to, Daddy?” Utterly too sweet and pretty and filthy and _fuck_.

He leans up off the bench and takes his hand away from your face, standing to his full height, examining you. He sees the mess you’ve made of yourself, your top half covered in your own saliva, your eyes all shiny with unshed tears. You’re looking at him with such devotion, your cheeks and neck and chest pink.

You lean forward on your palms, holding yourself up with your hands on your thighs, and place a kiss to his cock, just below his purple-red head. You lick a little at his slit, and blow just the tiniest little raspberry to the sensitive skin there.

He shivers “You’re so dirty, baby,” He leans forward, holds himself up on the bench with his other hand now, blocking your peripheral vision on your right side. With his right hand, he slides his fingers along your scalp and grips onto the hair at the back of your head. “and such a wet mouth. Show me all the spit you’re hiding in there.”

You collect some of your spit on your tongue, open your mouth and stick your tongue out, showing him. He sighs at the sight. This is vulgar. Neither of you can get enough.

He grips his cock at the base with his free hand, his left hand. He wants to see more of your spit dribbling and dripping from his cock. So he holds on firmly, and slides his tongue forward and back over your tongue, in and out of your open mouth, trying to slick up the underside of his cock. Then, he pulls back and away from your tongue, and is so happy with his work he feels like his heart and cock and brain might explode.

A trail of spit links your pretty pink tongue with the angry, red head of his cock, and you blink up at him prettily, like your eyes don’t know what your mouth has just done for him. _Gorgeous_ , he thinks.

He’s so taken with this that he does it again. Holding his cock he slips back onto your tongue and slides back and forth along it. “Close your lips around me.”

You do as he says and he groans, deep and full of dark lust, black as night.

He pulls his dick all the way out then, watching another trail of spit connecting you. But there’s a little less spit than last time, the little rope not as thick, and it breaks.

He fucking loves this, he loves unravelling in his desire, and getting you so dirty and depraved.

“More, honey.” He says. Simple, could mean any number of things. But you know. You always know what he wants. You collect more saliva in your mouth, ready for him. His fingers flex where he holds the bench, and where he’s gripped your hair at the back of your head.

“Open, baby.” He says, and you do.

He slides himself back in your mouth again, and instead of rocking back and forth like before, he takes his dick all the way in until it hits the back of your mouth, then takes a deep drag all the way back out and away, watching the little string of spit you make. He does it again. And again. His eyes are glued to your mouth, he’s watching you swallow him inside, watching his dick disappear into your mouth, and then come back out sloppy and slick with a cord of spit holding you both together. He’s mesmerised, and you can’t help but moan into the rhythm he makes. Your sounds send a jolt of pleasure through him and he clenches his fist in your hair again.

You feel so enveloped by this man. He’s towering over you, leaning in to you, with one hand clutching your hair and keeping your head in place, and his other hand guiding his cock into your mouth. You’re getting lost as all your senses are filled by him.

But then, oh a wicked idea occurs to Paterson. Thinking back to the little raspberry you blew on him before, and how hot and wet your mouth is, full of spit, he pulls away from your mouth completely, and says, “Blow some bubbles for me, baby.”

You blink, unsure.

“Go on, honey.” He tugs a swipe along his cock and his nostrils flare and his lips pout. _That felt good._

With your head tilted back you gather more saliva in your mouth, ready to do – before the syrup incident earlier – one of the sloppiest, nastiest things you’ve ever done. But you’ll do it, do it for him, happily.

You gather your spit and purse your lips and blow.

Paterson can’t believe his eyes.

You’re making little bubbles with your spit just like he asked, and some little strings of it slip down your chin.

Immediately he takes his cock and slides it over your mouth, “Yes, yes, baby,” relishing in the wetness and the little vibrations your lips are giving him. “Dirty girl.” He slaps his cock against your wet, closed lips. The slick-slick-slick sound drives him wild, and little flecks of spit land on your face and on his hand.

He feels totally debauched when he then wipes his slicked up cock all over your face, getting your cheeks and nose and even the lashes of one of your eyes covered in your own spit. He’s losing it, groaning and sighing with how you’re letting do this. How you’re surrendering yourself to him. It’s all you can do to hum out a “mmDaddy” and try to lick at his cock as he drags it over your face.

He can’t get over how hungry you are for him.

He repositions himself, now. He bends his knees just a tiny bit, drops his hips down and juts them out towards you, his ass cheeks clenching with the movement. His palms come up to rest on either side of your face, cradling your head, and he tilts your face, angles it so you’re staring straight up at him again, the your throat stretching as your head leans back as far as it can go. Then he says, “You’re starving for it, aren’t you, filthy girl? Show me your pretty throat, baby, let Daddy see.”

Immediately you swallow and open your mouth and his breath catches, he gasps, his chest rising with it. He can see right down your throat.

“Oh yeah,” he breathes, you’re not sure if he’s speaking to you or himself. “I’ll fit.” he says, then back at a normal volume, “You’ll fit Daddy in, baby, won’t you? You can fit my big cock in there.”

He releases a hand from the side of your face, and he slides his fingers along your scalp and grips onto the hair at the back of your head. “Do you want Daddy to stuff your little face with his cock?”

“Yes, Daddy.” you breathe, immediate and instinctive and without hesitation. You’re a goner for him.

“That’s right, baby, yes, you do.” he coos, then he smirks, remembering something you once said to him. “Say please, dirty girl. Ask Daddy nicely.”

You know his hands are occupied, holding your face and your hair, so you thrust a hand up and grab at his dick. It feels so heavy and hot and hard in your hand. A good deal of your saliva has dried by now so, that little dribble of wetness you feel must be, has to be, leaking from _him_.

You grip him and give him a tug. “Daddy,” you make your voice as needy and breathy and sultry as you can, knowing it will go right to his cock, “please,” you swipe your thumb along the head, smearing the little beads of cum there, “I wanna feel your cock in my throat. Please fuck me there, Daddy.”

His reaction is immediate and all at once. He bucks his hips into your hand and clenches his fingers in your hair and grips your chin, hard. His eyes are black and wild and thrilled, his nostrils flare and his jaw tightens. He puffs out a breath through his nose.

“Oh, honey. You dirty fucking girl. I wanna feel your lips at the bottom of my dick and I’m not gonna stop until I get it, ok baby?”

“Yes, Daddy, ahuh.” You give his cock another stroke.

“Yeah, dirty baby’s gonna be licking my balls before I’m done with her, won’t she?”

His words are so depraved, and you’re always so happily shocked to hear how dirty he can be when he just lets go. You can’t help but break into a grin and nod and stroke him again, “Yes, Daddy.”

He hums. “Filthy thing.” His ego feels fucking huge. The sense of power you’re giving him is almost making him lightheaded. His cock is so hard, it aches, and he thinks it’s a miracle he hasn’t come yet from your words and your face and your voice alone.

He bats your hand away from his cock, and holds the benchtop with both hands, supporting his weight. You shift yourself up a little higher on your haunches to be closer to his hips, to make it easier for him to fuck your mouth.

“Take your hair out, honey,” he says, and you undo your messy bun. He can’t help but stroke his fingers through your hair softly, gently, purring, “beautiful girl,” and you see the mad and desperate lust that has raged in his eyes disappears for a moment, when he whispers softly to you, “remember to breathe, honey, ok?”

You nod, your eyes sparkling. “Ok, Pat.”

“Tilt your head up for me.”

You crane your neck again, like he likes.

“Good girl.” He shifts closer to you, lining himself up, settling his hands on either side of your head. Your peripheral vision is blocked on both sides now, all you see is him, only him, only your gorgeous husband and he breaks through your rambling thoughts asking “You ready?”

You nod.

“Open your mouth for Daddy, baby.”

You do as you’re told.

Under his breath you hear a little, “ffuuuck yeah,” and then he’s thrusting into your mouth, bucking his hips into your face. You’re thrown back against the cabinets now, head leaning against a wooden door. The tip of his cock hits your soft palate again, and he coos to you, “come on baby I know you can take some more.”

With the angle your head is at now, you’re able to open your throat a little easier for him, and you feel him, rubbing against and past the open muscle.

You can pick the exact moment when Paterson feels it too.

“Open up, show Daddy how much you love his cock, come on, baby—oh _fuuuck_ _yesss_ , you love this fucking cock don’t you, Daddy’s big dick shoved right in your throat, that’s it… fuck! Perfect little hh-whore mouth, taking my cock. That’s it, baby… shit you take Daddy’s cock so well.”

He’s a rambling, ranting mess and you’re trying to keep your eyes open, trying to look up at him in his beautiful face, but your eyes keep rolling back in your head and tiny little tears are escaping.

Paterson takes one thrust just a little too rough and you gag again, loud this time, and he’s out and off you immediately, grabbing your face in his hands. You’re coughing up spit, and disappointed that you gagged on him when he was enjoying it so much.

Something’s changed within him. He never wanted to hurt you, or make you hurt yourself. All he wants is to cherish you. He looks deep into your eyes. “You did so well for me, baby.” His thumbs swipe at the little tracks of tears that you shed, and he whispers, “so beautiful.”

You can’t help the little quiver of your bottom lip when you say, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Oh, baby,” he shakes his head at you, “come up here and let Daddy make you feel better, hm?” He stands and holds his hand out to you, “let me make it better.”

You grab his hand and go to stand but your knees are complete jelly and you stumble.

“Aw, honey,” he tsks. “Did my little girl’s legs give out?” He grabs you under your arms and hoists you up to standing, holding you as pins and needles tingle through your legs. “Daddy kept you on the ground for too long, hm? Let’s get you out of these jeans, honey.” He slips a hand down to unbutton and unzip your jeans. They were already halfway down your ass anyway, so he tugged a little to shift them down to your mid-thighs. Then he trails one hand behind you, sliding down your back and gripping the flesh of one of your ass cheeks, while his other hand dips inside your panties.

“Can’t have my baby sitting around in wet clo- _fuck_ , honey!” Paterson’s fingers slip and slide up and down your folds easily, too easily, you’re completely coated, sopping wet and drenched. “Shit, (Y/N), why didn’t you tell me, honey?” You were _so_ wet for him, he couldn’t believe how quick his fingers were all slicked up and sliding all over the place.

“I didn’t-I wanted-“ you stop yourself and huff. You can’t think of how to say that you wanted to give your everything to him, everything he needed, until he was completely and totally and utterly fulfilled.

“You’re too good to me, honey.” he drops to his knees and pulls your jeans down your legs, manoeuvres them off your ankles and feet. Then, he leans in and licks a long stripe up your wet, clothed slit.

“Tell me how to make it better, baby.” He breathes into your panties. You whimper.

He lifts you up onto the counter. You’re pretty sure one of your cheeks lands in something sticky. Paterson spreads your legs, moves between them, then pulls them in close to his sides. His hot, thick fingers trail up your thighs, your sides, around the sides of your breasts, and slide into your hair, cradling the bottom half of your skull, his wrists resting on your shoulders. His gaze bores into you.

“Tell Daddy how to make you feel good.” He brushes some loose hairs over your shoulder, plants to the now exposed skin just below your ear, and then returns his hand to the base of your skull.

The first and only thing that comes to your mind is out of your mouth quicker than you can even finish the thought. “Please fuck me, Daddy.”

He raises his eyebrows and the corner of his mouth ticks up in a small smile. He’s impressed at how straight forward you are, given the circumstances, but… “Fuck you, honey? Here?” You nod in his hands, turn your head to the side and kiss his mount of Venus.

“Hmm…” he hums, considering. He flicks his eyes down to your mouth, then back up to your eyes. You’ve given him so much, he’s not sure how much more you can take.

He trails one hand down over your spine, settling it on your lower back and pulling you to him. His other hand trails down between your legs and slips inside your panties again. He begins to circle your clit with light, gentle touches, as he leans in to your ear and speaks lowly, just for you, only ever for you, “You want my cock inside you, baby, hm?” He takes a breath, testing the waters. “My dirty girl wants me to fuck her where she makes me dinner?”

His touches are light but you’re squirming. After all this build up and no stimulation, you think he could make you cum like this. His words melt you and you let out a whine in response.

He hasn’t left your ear, his hot breath fanning over it when he speaks, quiet and deep, “So needy, baby. I don’t think your tight little pussy can take Daddy’s cock, can it?”

“Mmm-please,” you moan, “I can take it, Daddy, please.” It feels like all you’ve ever wanted in your entire life.

“Hmm,” he hums again, considering. He sucks on your ear lobe. “Spread your legs for me, dirty girl.” You spread your legs as wide as they can go, knocking something over, but neither of you care.

He rests his hands on your thighs and bends down to look between your legs. “Christ, I can see everything through these panties, baby, you’re soaked.” You buck your hips towards him involuntarily, as if your pussy was trying to plead with your husband on your behalf.

“I know, I know, honey,” he croons. He leans back up to be eye level with you, and strokes his thumb up and down your slit, catching on your clit at the very top. “Your little clit is so stiff.” He’s in awe.

“Daddy _please_.” _Wow_ , you think to yourself, _you’re really whining the word ‘please’ now huh?_ The things this man did to you.

“You want my cock in here, baby? You gotta show Daddy he can fit.” He pulls your panties by the waistband and you help him drag them down your legs and off. They land on the tiles with a splat. “Why don’t we see if you can fit my fingers first, hm?” He brings his index finger up and runs the tip along your folds. “Can you fit my fingers in, baby? Let Daddy see.”

You pull your legs up so they’re bent at the knee, your feet resting on the counter.

Paterson moans at the sight of your pussy in this position. On instinct he brings both hands to you, his index and middle fingers on each side of your swollen pussy lips, and gently pulls, spreading you for him to see.

“Fffuuuuck, such a tight little hole.” He hasn’t taken his eyes off you, and he says it so low and quiet you don’t think it’s meant for you to hear. He changes the position of his fingers, turning his hand so he spreads you with just an index and middle finger, like he’s making a peace sign.

He flicks his gaze back up to you, “I want three in here before I fuck you, baby. Can you do that for me?”

You bit your lip and nod, “Yes, Daddy, I can do it.”

“Mmm, of _course_ you can, baby. You’ll be a good girl for me. You can,” he slides the index finger of his other hand into you, “do it.”

You cry out a loud and needy moan that ends with a high pitched and breathy, “Daddy!”

It’s music for him.

Your pussy is gripping his finger so tight, he doesn’t know if he can pull it out. “Yesss, baby, yes, I know, it feels good doesn’t it?” You’re moaning again as he starts to drag his finger in and out of you. He loves being so close to your pussy, he can see your wetness slick his finger up all shiny with cum, see up close how it looks when your pussy walls suck him back inside you.

Paterson groans again, he feels hopped up on the sight and smell and feel of you. “Another, baby, take another one, ok?”

“Ok, Daddy, yes.” You’re craving the friction now.

He slips a second finger in alongside the first and you sigh with pleasure. He’s watching you with wonder, amazement, having spread you open and now fucking you with two fat fingers. You start rocking your hips onto his hand, and the sound is obscene.

“Mmmff-fuuucking love when your pussy makes these sounds, baby. So wet, such a dirty girl, such a good, dirty girl for Daddy.”

He’s completely lost, talking nonsense, and all you can think is how you might cum before he gets his third finger in.

“D-Daddy,” you pant, “I, I-“

“Oh I know honey, I know how,” he slips a third finger alongside the two, and you cry out as he speaks, “yesssss baby, I know how much you wanna cum, you’re crushing my fingers. Dirty baby, you love this don’t you?”

The stretch is amazing and you’re sobbing in reply.

“Yes you do, yes you fucking do, filthy girl loves when Daddy fucks her with three fingers.” All that’s heard is the sick wet squelch of your sopping heat in time with your panting moans. “Yeah crush ‘em, honey, show Daddy how good you’re gonna squeeze his cock.”

He starts to thrust his fingers inside you hard, rubbing and sliding against your walls in earnest, and it’s divine. “I know, baby,” he coos, “I know, good girl, you’re doing so well.”

His free hand gathers some of your slick on his fingers and he sucks them into his mouth, licking your wetness right off, and he moans.

You’re so close to coming now. You hear little murmurs from Paterson, it sounds like he’s talking to himself, muttering, “juicy pussy, so sweet and juicy, such a little, little peach, gonna make her cum all over me, cum all over-“

“Daddy,” you whine, dragging out all the vowels. You needed pressure on your clit, and he knew it.

“Yes, baby? What’s wrong, honey?” he makes a little pouty face, totally at odds with the straight pornographic sounds coming from your drenched pussy.

You’re chanting at him, your face contorted in pleasure, “please-please-please.”

“Ohh, I see,” Paterson says, as if you’ve just told him something he _didn’t_ already know. “Little girl can’t even speak, can she?”

You pull your lips between your teeth and shake your head.

“No, but I know what you want, honey. You want Daddy to rub your little clit, don’t you? Is it sore, baby? Is it aching?”

You’re throwing your hips onto his hand now, wetness gushing out of you and seeping onto the countertop. Your ass cheeks are sliding in it.

“Filthy thing, sliding around in your own mess. When I make you cum, baby, you’re gonna cum on my fingers and scream for me, scream so loud next door can hear you. Ok honey?”

“Yes, Daddy!”

“You ready?”

“ _Yes_ , Daddy!”

“Good girl.” He brings his free hand up and thumbs your clit, giving light, quick flicks and then circling, adding the pressure he knows you need.

And your orgasm blinds you. It tears through you, and you scream. Your pussy clamps down hard around Paterson’s fingers, clenching and squeezing and _coming_. It’s rolling out of you in waves and you’re sobbing. Paterson can’t stop looking at you. You’re beautiful, and when you come you’re magnificent.

Only when the contractions of your walls subside does Paterson slide his fingers gently out of you. Your arms are shaking from holding yourself up after such an intense orgasm.

He cradles your face in his hands again, his fingers that were inside you still wet, and you feel your slick coat one of your cheeks.

He kisses you, deep and longingly, pulling your face towards his and leaning into you. You can’t help but moan into it, and neither can he.

He pulls away and his eyes roam your body. He hooks a hand around your waist and helps you down off the counter. He pulls you into him, and you wrap your arms around him. He looks over the top of your head to see the little puddle of cum you left behind. He groans, and his cock—which was about half hard while he was playing with you for so long—stirs between his legs. He loves getting you sloppy.

He leans down to your ear and his hands grab fistfuls of your ass, kneading your soft cheeks. His breath puffs out over your ear and the side of your neck when he says, “Daddy’s not finished with you yet, little peach. Clean up the mess you made, baby, then get on all fours, and crawl to the bedroom.”


	4. Part 4

He leans down to your ear and his hands grab fistfuls of your ass, kneading your soft cheeks. His breath puffs out over your ear and the side of your neck when he says, “Daddy’s not finished with you yet, little peach. Clean up the mess you made, baby, then get on all fours, and crawl to the bedroom.”

He stands back up to his full height and runs the backs of his fingers under your chin, gently tilting you up to look at him, “ok, honey?”

Paterson’s not sure if he can ask you for anything else, anything more, but he wants you, he needs you, and the things you’ve let him do to you—you’ve unleashed something dark and desperate and it’s consuming him.

For your part, you’re gazing up at him, gripping his solid sides near his hips, you’re naked and covered in _all_ sorts – spit, sweat, your own slick, and any remains from your cooking earlier. You feel light, like you’re floating, tingling all the way down to your muscles and bones. You hear what he says, feel the twitch of his dick near your belly, and sparks of arousal fly through you again, making you shiver.

“C-clean it up, Daddy?” You make your eyes big and wide, make it look like you’re timid about this, you’re not sure about doing this, licking something up _again_ -

“Yes, baby, don’t you want to please me?”

Oh, he’s good. He’s got you there. “B-but,” you glance over to the little puddle you left on the countertop, and then back into Paterson’s eyes, “I-“

“Here,” Paterson says, reaching to the bench and sliding two fingers through your mess, “let Daddy help.” He gathers some of your slick on his fingers and brings them to your mouth, holding them in front of your lips, offering them to you. His eyes look alight, glinting and lit up from the inside.

You dart your tongue out to lick your lips and your lips hang open a little, and Pat pulls his eyebrows up, opening his mouth just slightly, almost mirroring you, waiting, watching.

You lean your head forward the tiniest bit, your open lips grazing his fingertips while you gaze up at him with big eyes. In little whispers that you barely hear he encourages you, “come on baby, clean it up, come on, clean my fingers.” You stick your tongue out and lick a stripe up his two fingers, then close your lips around them and drag your mouth along them. He’s louder now, “good girl, baby. Dirty thing, sssuck ‘em clean.” You massage your tongue against his fingers and really suck on them like an ice block on a hot day, sucking your slick off him. You look up at him sweetly and smile with your eyes at his words.

Paterson tries not to groan. He’s completely hard and aching now, his cock so stiff and in need of you. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and a wet little pop sounds from the suction you had on him. “Dirty baby likes her own cum, hm?” He runs his clean hand through your hair, and with his wet hand, he runs the pads of his fingers over your bottom lip, shiny with spit, and very low and quiet says, “You like when Daddy feeds you your cum, baby?”

You can feel his erection poking into you, and you think of something that you hope will made him drip for you, “yes, Daddy,” you say on his fingertips, before pressing a small kiss to them, and then, “but not as much as when you feed me yours.”

Paterson sighs through his nose, and grips your face in both his hands, “you know what I love about you?” He feels overwhelmed with emotions for you: he adores you, he’s devoted to you, he’s going to live the rest of his life with you, but you drive him mad with want and lust and desire and you pull things out of him he never knew he needed. You make him crazy.

“What, Daddy?” you ask, biting your bottom lip.

He groans at that. “You do the sweetest things for me, like a good little girl. But the things you _say_ ,” he pulls you up, pulling your face closer to him and you stand up on your tiptoes, falling into him a little and bracing yourself with one hand on his chest and one on his upper belly. You’re inhaling each other’s breath when he says, “you’ve got the filthiest mouth I’ve ever heard.”

You huff a laugh, it comes out as a puff of air into Paterson’s face, “me?” you breathe, and he nods, whispering “yeah you, baby.” You search his eyes as he speaks, and whisper back to him, “oh, I got nothing on you, Daddy.”

He growls then, a deep and guttural thing from the back of his throat, right in your face. His top lip pulls up a little with it, and it makes you smile. “Are you mad, Daddy?” you ask through your little smile, your voice low and soft.

Paterson can’t comprehend what you’re doing to him. His eyes, glinting with fiery desire, bore into yours, and his fingers flex on your cheeks and jaw like he’s searching for something, searching deep and hard to make sure you’re really here, you’re really you. How did _he_ of all people got so lucky to have you?

He licks your lips. Licks a line right across them, and you gasp. He chuckles darkly, and says, “I’m not mad, baby, no. But Daddy wants to fuck you,” your breath hitches again, and he smiles, continuing, “yeah, baby, Daddy wants to fuck his little girl until she screams. I want to make you cry, baby, I do, I want to split you open on my cock and make you cry until the only thing that leaves that filthy little mouth is that, _fucking_ , word.”

You feel your pulse throbbing right in your clit, and the only thing you can think to say in response, if you’re even thinking at all, is to try and bring him back down to earth. You try to say ‘Pat?’ but all that comes out is a breathy, “Daddy?”

Shit. You are fucked.

“Yeah, honey, that’s it, you’re gonna do great.” He takes his hands away from your face and takes a step back from you. “Do what I said now, baby, get down on your little hands and little knees and crawl for me.”

Paterson was so wrapped up in this, too wrapped up in this. And when you sank down onto the cold tiles, his hard cock throbbed. He needed to be inside you, soon, now.

You lean onto your hands and flex your back, really pushing your ass out for him. You hear him hum a little groan from behind you and say, “go on, honey.”

You’ve never crawled anywhere for anything, and you were not sure how sexy this actually was, if at all. But Paterson really really wanted to see you like this, so who were you to deny him?

You take the first step on your hands and knees and you hear some rustling behind you. It sounds like fabric sliding and bunching and his belt buckle jingling. You look back over your shoulder and see Paterson sliding his shirt up over his arms, and when he’s done, and looking down at you, you see that he’s completely stripped himself off, and stands behind you totally naked, his thick length leaking.

“Don’t worry about me, baby, you just keep on going. Nice and slow like you did just now.” He gestures towards your bedroom with his chin. When you turn back around and start moving again, feeling totally exposed, he quickly bends down and grabs your soaked panties, discarded from earlier. He might need them, he thinks to himself, and smiles. They feel damp in his palm as he closes his fingers around them.

He watches your body slink towards your bedroom, following behind you.

You feel so dirty, like really dirty, but Paterson can’t take his eyes off your back, your hips, your ass. He sees your wet slit and your tight asshole and it makes his mouth water and his cock dribbles more cum. He takes his thumb and spreads it over the tip of his dick while he watches you cross into your bedroom and he’s forced to suppress a moan. He follows behind you. “Lean up on the bed, but stay on your knees, honey.” He says, and you manoeuvre into the position he’s asked of you. Your forearms rest on the bed, and the height this gives to your torso and makes you arch your back and really stick your ass out to him.

You hear the door close behind you and Paterson releases a deep sigh. “Perfect, baby. Beautiful.” The sound of his slow footsteps coming closer has your heart thudding in your chest, anticipation racing through you.

Paterson sinks to his knees behind you and marvels at the shape of your body, how your ass makes two perfect globes like this, how soft and smooth your skin looks. He drops your soaked panties to the side and runs his big hands all over your ass cheeks, the warmth from his palms and fingers soaking into your skin. Gripping you, he leans down and places big wet sloppy kisses to the flesh of your cheeks, licking at your skin as he goes. Little hums of pleasure leave your mouth, “that feels nice, Daddy,” you say breathily.

“I’ll bet it does, baby,” he says into the flesh of your ass, thinking of something you might let him do to you. One _more_ thing you might let him do to you. He’s obsessed.

He pulls back and sits on his calves, grips your ass, and spreads the flesh of your cheeks, spreading you wide for him, showing off your pussy and your tight little asshole just for him to see. The dark and desperate need grips him again, and he does something he thinks he might have to apologise for later, after.

He spits onto your tight hole and watches it dribble down over your folds.

“Jesus! What the-“ you start.

“It’s ok, baby,” he coos, “you’re ok,” and he takes his thumb and circles around your rear entrance, rubbing his spit over and into the sensitive skin around your hole. He feels you clench beneath his thumb and he groans, “good girl, just relax and let Daddy play with you, ok baby?”

Despite yourself, despite expecting nothing of this sort from him today, you relaxed into Paterson’s attention on you. It wasn’t like you’d never done this, you’d both explored every inch of each other inside and out before, but this, with the spreading and the spit, has taken you completely by surprise. He was _so dirty_ sometimes.

You pushed your hips back on to him, just a little, letting him know it was ok, and he huffs a breath. You take a breath and say, “I didn’t n-know you wanted t-to play with my ass today, Daddy.” You stuttered your words over the little sparks of pleasure that flickered in your clit from his attention on your ass.

“No?” he questions, circling you with more pressure, his spit making you all slippery, “but you’ll let Daddy do it,” he presses in just slightly, right into the centre of your puckered hole, and your tight ring squeezes the tip of his thumb. It sends a jolt of pleasure through you. Paterson doesn’t go any further, but he’s breathing hard when he says, “you’ll let Daddy do it, won’t you baby?” he circles the flesh of your ass with his other hand.

You wanted more of him, more from him, and you felt your pussy slicking up all over again with the promise of it. You moan, pushing your hips back again, “mmm, mmhm, yes,” and then, you think of something to really get him going. You flick your head over your shoulder and say, “spit on me, Daddy.”

“Fuck, baby,” he groans out all the vowel sounds, his fingers are trembling and his cock is leaking, and he can’t believe how depraved you are, have been all evening. You were as dirty and kinky as he was, letting him do all these things he wanted to do to you.

He spits onto your hole and his thumb, and gently, slowly, millimetres at a time, teases your hole open with his thumb. You can’t help the little groan that falls from your lips at the feel of the wet friction there.

He crouches down then, almost laying on the floor, holding himself up on his arm bent at the elbow, and licks at your folds, glistening wet under where his thumb is working you open. He licks and laps at your lower lips, tasting your slick and his spit as it combines on his tongue. He groans, his head swimming, and he hears your shocked little squeaks of “fuck!” and “Daddy!”

This was lewd, vulgar, and Paterson’s cock ached painfully.

He moans into your folds, “dirty thing,” and then leans up, delighted to see his thumb now halfway inside you, and enchanted by your little pants and moans he hears. But you sound muffled. He looks up and sees you’ve buried your head in your crossed forearms. That won’t do.

“Head up, baby, don’t hide your pretty sounds from Daddy.”

You lift your head and turn to the side, looking back at him out of the corner of your eye. “Please, Daddy,” you whine.

Paterson smirks, his chest flooded with pride. He’s built you up so high that you seem ready and willing to do just about anything for him. Like he is for you. “What, baby, what is it?” he coos at you, knowing full well you won’t be able to respond with what he does next. “Tell Daddy, baby,” he purrs as he slips two fingers into your sopping heat.

You cry out, pleasure flooding you from having Paterson’s fingers working both your tight holes.

“Yeah… yeah I know, baby.” Paterson’s voice sounds far away from himself. He’s staring at his fingers and thumb, how they disappear in and out of you, and nonsense words tumble from his lips, “you’re so tight, honey, so wet and hot inside, God I wanna fuck you, I wanna fuck you and fill up all your little holes, baby, all your pretty little holes, they’re just for me, just for Daddy, so pretty.” He glances back up to you now, sees your head is thrown back and you’re moaning out your pleasure up to the ceiling.

He spits onto you again and feels you rock back onto his hands, fucking his fingers and thumb. “Dirty girl loves this, doesn’t she? Hm? Daddy’s little girl loves this, baby?”

Paterson wants an answer from you now, and all you can do is pant and chant and pray at him, “I love this, I love this Daddy, I love this, yes—ahh!” He was stirring something in you, churning you up into a mess of boiling nerves. He was gonna make you cum again.

He leans over your body now, and you can feel his breath blow in your hair, his voice pitched deep and low when he says, “I bet you’d love to have your two little holes stuffed at the same time, right baby?” His fingers pump in and out of you and his thumb is massaging all the nerves in your tight asshole, sliding back and forth along your ring.

You’re just vocalising now, “mmhm, mm, aahuh,” you shut your eyes tight. Did he just say-

“Fffuck yeah, that’s right, dirty baby wants her Daddy’s cock in her pussy and his finger in her ass, isn’t that right, filthy girl?” Paterson was panting now, he couldn’t believe his own ears.

And oh shit, you’d definitely heard him now. It sounded divine. It sounded like you’d cum instantly. “Yes, Daddy, yes, Daddy, please.”

“Mmmm,” he groans, “I bet.” He slows his fingers down to a lazy, teasing pace and you whine. “So needy, honey,” he pulls his fingers from your pussy and gently retracts his thumb from your ass. He shivers when he sees you clench up around nothing. “Do that again,” he states, immediately bringing his hands up to grip your flesh, spreading your cheeks and your lips open to him again. “Do it again, little peach, let Daddy see.”

What he wants, what he’s staring at, he’s making it so obvious and it thrills you. You clench and tense and release and pull a ragged moan from Paterson. “Shit, baby,” he breathes. He releases his hold on you and runs his fingers up and down your back, over the globes of your ass, “hop up on the bed, honey. Daddy can’t wait any longer.”

You scramble up onto the bed you share, grateful for the opportunity to stretch your legs out for a moment, and position yourself on your hands and knees again. This is how he wants it, you think, how he’s wanted it all evening. From behind, dirty and rough and where he can see your puckered little asshole stretch around one of his fingers. “Is this how you want me, Daddy?” you ask, just because you can, just because it drives him wild. It doesn’t matter that you both know the answer.

Paterson grunts and kneels up behind you, the bed dipping with his weight. “Yeah, baby, just like this, you got it.” He runs his hands over your ass cheeks again. “Perfect, honey.” His pulse is throbbing in his cock, and although purposely hasn’t been teasing himself, he thinks he might cum the second he’s fully sheathed inside you. He grips your hip in one hand, and lines himself up with the other. “You ready for Daddy’s cock, baby?”

“Mmm, please, yes, Daddy.” you moan.

“Oh honey, you always know just what to say.” A second later, Paterson drives his thick cock all the way inside you in a single thrust, burying himself to the hilt in your “fucking tight cuhh—fuck, baby, my little girl’s pussy’s ssooh tight.” He’s moaning through every other word, holding himself back from blowing his load deep into you right this very second. He’d better shut the fuck up then, he thinks to himself.

You cry out at the feel of him stretching and filling you, so totally and completely. “D-Daddy, you’re s-so, b-big,” you’re trying to catch your breath, trying to adjust to the length and girth of him, but with every breath in and out you feel your pussy fluttering, walls tightening and releasing around him. Paterson’s breathing hard, and you can’t see it, but his eyes are shut tight, he’s concentrating so hard.

You do that thing he likes, where you clench and tense, and when he feels it his eyes pop open and look straight down to where you’re joined, where your puckered little hole waits for him. He grabs your cheeks and holds you open, sees you open up just the tiniest bit for him.

He drools onto you, letting little strings and blobs fall from his mouth. You feel them land on you, and you clench up involuntarily. Seeing this, and feeling your pussy do it around his cock, makes Paterson flex his hips into you, both of you groaning.

“Please, more, Daddy,” you whine, all high and needy and pathetic.

“I know, baby, me too, I know” he rubs circles around your tight hole again, wet with his saliva, and rolls his hips into you, not really thrusting, not really giving you any friction, but giving you _just_ enough, “if you can fit Daddy’s thumb in your tight little hole again, I’ll fuck you dumb, I’ll fuck you silly, baby, I promise,” he eases his thumb into you again, and dribbles more spit onto you, “come on, dirty girl, open up your pretty little asshole for Daddy.”

His words send a shock of pleasure through you, and you gasp. Paterson takes the chance to press just a little more into you, and his thumb dips into your hole again. Moaning at the sensations racing through your body, you clench and squeeze him, his cock and his thumb trapped inside you.

“Oohhhshhiiit, there she is, there you are, baby, good girl, so good,” Paterson’s losing it. Looking down, he sees your pussy full to the brim of his thick cock, and your ass stuffed with his thumb. His dick twitches inside you and he thinks he might faint. “You ready, honey?”

“Oh, Daddy,” you whine, “please, yes!”

“Mmm?” he prompts you for more, lazily rocking his hips into you and you sway forward on your hands.

But you give it to him, you always give him what he needs. Remembering all the filthy things he’s said to you since he got home, you put on your neediest voice and say, “split me open on your cock, Daddy, fill my holes and make me cry for you.”

That does it.

Oh, that fucking does it.

Paterson is without thought, pure instinct and need, when he grips your hip with his free hand, drags his dick out of you, and pounds into your tight pussy, setting a relentless pace.

“Aaahh, _fuck_ , baby, fuuhhck,” is all he can say at first, his hips slamming into your ass cheeks and bouncing you back and forth over his cock.

You can’t hold back the moans he’s wrenching from you, from deep in your throat. Your skin gets hot and you feel tears well up in your eyes.

Paterson is pounding into you, pushing you forward each time he slap-slap-slaps into you, and you’re tightening up around his cock and his thumb, sending him wild and rambling. “Fffuck yes, you filthy fucking girl, you love this don’t you? You love Daddy’s cock. And you love Daddy fucking you and filling up your ass like this, I know you do, dirty baby, I know, I know.”

It’s all you can do to keen and moan, all that comes out is half finished words when you try to talk to him.

“God this is such a slutty pussy. I love it baby, I love your slutty little c-uuhh.”

He was gonna say something then, he almost said it before, but he stopped himself then too. You wanted to hear it, you wanted him to be vulgar and totally debauched. You gasp out, “ss-ssay it, D-Daddy,” you whimpered. You wanted him to know it’s ok to let go.

“Aahhghh,” he groans, “this slutty.little.cunt!” he punctuates each word with a hard and sharp thrust, his pace making your bones rattle and punching all the air from your lungs.

You’re gasping and panting out moans in time with his snapping hips, unable to form any more words. You’re hurtling towards another orgasm, and this one might break you. But no matter, Paterson’s got plenty to say for the both of you.

“G-god, baby, you don’t even know how fucking hard you made me, hearing your pretty little voice say all those f-fucking things.” He growls then, remembering all the times you called him ‘Daddy’ when you thought he couldn’t hear, all the things that got him into this mess in the first place. He imitates you, “Fuckin’, ‘is Daddy home?’ and, ‘that’s Daddy’s chair,’” he stutters is the pace of his hips for just a moment, before picking up with even more force, hitting deep, deep inside you, the head of his cock butting up against your cervix, “Christ, you’ve got a filthy fucking mouth you dirty thing. Did you sssay all those things just to get me to fffuck you like this, hm?”

“Nnno, nnnnno—ohh, Dah-Daddy, I’m, fuck!” You’re trying to tell him, you’re really really trying.

“Can’t get any fucking w-words out, can you, baby?”

You shake your head, letting loose a string of whines and sobs. With his cock ramming into you, his thumb shifts and strokes against your tight ring with every thrust. It’s making your vision blurry. Paterson can tell you’re close, he can feel you seizing up around him. And once you cum, he’s toast.

“Touch your little clit and show Daddy how you cum, baby. Y-you showed me in the kitchen how g-good you can cum. Do it again, come on, do it again, for Daddy, baby,” he’s grunting now, like an animal, totally unlike anything you’ve heard from him before.

He’s desperate, he needs you to find your release so he can find his. He’s aching for it, and so are you, so you reach down between your legs, totally uneasy with just one arm supporting yourself. You flick your swollen bud and you know it won’t take much now. Paterson groans and starts again, “show Daddy again, come on, give me one more, baby, let Daddy feel you cum, just one more.”

It’s building and building and building and you break, you’re screaming out, screaming that you’re coming, clenching and clamping and squeezing Paterson’s cock and his thumb, both completely buried inside you now. Paterson feels you losing it and when you snap and scream for him, he can’t hold on anymore, and he’s groaning and yelling and coming and emptying himself inside you as your walls massage his cock for all the cum he has to offer.

You can’t hold yourself up anymore and you collapse, taking Pat with you onto the bed. You entangle yourselves together in a mess of sweat and spit and cum and hard, panting breaths.

Soon, you’ll get up, and probably shower, and tidy up the kitchen and all the different kinds of mess you made. Soon. Later.

But for now, Paterson strokes your hair, strokes your back, kisses you and says, voice so deep and quiet, eyes shiny with tears, he says, “thank you, (Y/N), thank you.” He tells you he loves you, tells you you’re his whole world.

And some moments later, when you’re both breathing normally again, and all the cum and sweat and Lord knows what else is cool and uncomfortable on your skin, you shift to get up. But he stops you and says, with a cheeky smile, “So, you were making a special treat for me tonight, I think,” his eyes sparkle, “with… peaches, right honey?”

You smile at him. He could be cheeky when he wanted to be. “Well, baby,” you make your way to the bedroom door on shaky legs, “if _you_ , come clean up the mess you made of _me_ ,” you open the door and lean your head in the direction of the bathroom, indicating a shower, “maybe you’ll get it.”

“Maybe?” his eyebrows lift up.

“Maybe.” you shrug. But you know it. He will. He always will.


End file.
